


These Winters Can Be Maddening

by brokenmemento



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Academy days, Childhood, F/F, Seasons, mild spoilers for part 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenmemento/pseuds/brokenmemento
Summary: Winter through the eyes of Zelda Spellman at three points in her life.
Relationships: Zelda Spellman & Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37
Collections: Madam Spellman 2020 Challenge





	These Winters Can Be Maddening

**Author's Note:**

> *Part of the Madam Spellman challenge on Tumblr. Prompt three is "winter"

The first time she consciously remembers the snow was the winter of her sixth year on earth. Of course, Greendale had experienced the weather before but she was much too young to actually process the intricacy of it. As a serious and questioning small child, she had good enough sense to question it much like every other facet of her life.

She had grown old by that tender age, the Spellman household always full of thick air and quiet voices, if any sound at all. There was propriety to follow, so sometimes the absence of things felt a little more gravely than others. As the middle of the clan and eldest daughter, Zelda was neither firstborn or the baby, stuck between a world of exalted greatness and one of neverending tenderness. Like wandering on the outskirts of life, like looking in.

In that sixth year, Edward had reached young adulthood and with that, so went the way of his youthful tendencies. Hilda still clung to their mother’s skirt tail at the exuberant age of three and somehow managed to be the apple of their parents’ eyes. She used to watch them then, with Edward and Hilda, the pride and the joy, possessing a missing characteristic Zelda had spent much of her time looking for in solace and studying. She had to be better at everything and oftentimes, just fell short.

So when the flurries came, to say that a collective breath escaped from the interior of their home and perhaps even their own little bodies, was an understatement. It’s as if time suspended and held itself in place so that a perfect day could be made.

Edward had taken them to the window, showed them the crisp white all over the ground. They spoke in whispers then, conspiratorial in their alliance to venture forth to experience what lay in wait in abundance. He had bundled Hilda up, face ruddy and eyes bright. Her tiny fingers had stretched in her gloves and it had taken all of her willpower to follow the advice of a finger to her brother’s lips.

Zelda had followed obediently behind, not one to forgo an activity for the sake of pride and demurity. While not necessarily part of the crowd, she moved along with it, into the fresh air, the drifts of white, and the bright morning sun.

The world sparkled that day, held awaited wonder. She had hesitated initially, suspect of the projected fun as Edward swung Hilda around by her tiny arms and their squeals filled the yard and beyond. It looked like so much _fun_ and wasn’t that such a hard thing to come by in their home? She experimentally drug the toe of her shoe across the fluff, watching it indent under her pressing. 

A splatter hit her shoulder, causing her to jerk her head up to find the culprit. Edward stood a few feet away with his breath coming out in ragged clouds and his fingers holding handfuls of what had just hit her body. Hilda had hysterically giggled at the spectacle and by the time all was said and done, Zelda nose was pinked, her fingers numb, and happiness pooling in her chest. 

Their father yelled then, shattering the snow globe scene of their innocence. Edward’s face went back to the brooding scowl it would hold for many years to come hence. Hilda had ducked her head and retreated into herself, something she would continue to do all of her life. Zelda had met the angry glare of their father as each Spellman child passed by his person. 

Rage lit his eyes and his lips flattened to a thin line. No additional shouts fell from his mouth, but a point had been made. 

From that day on, Zelda always hated the snow. It brought a melancholy painful to trace back to the original source. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The summer had been unnaturally sweltering, sweat never far off the skin of every soul in Greendale. The days were scorching and the night’s offered little reprieve. In her Academy days, cool drink had been abundant and clothing optional as a heatwave swept across the town and beyond. 

The doors had been thrown open and cool breezes searched for constantly. Even summoning the winds of the corners was only a temporary fix. She supposes that is why a clan of warlocks decided to dabble in some mischief one late August day. The once wide entrances and portals to the outside had been abruptly shut, sending the atmosphere into a sappy stickiness. 

A handful of them had been gathered in the main room of the Academy near the entrance. She’d heard fast-paced Latin being murmured but hadn’t stopped long enough to hear the words. Her arms cradled her texts and she’d halted in her steps as course white grains had landed atop their covers. 

The small crystals had turned to a frenzied whiteout and wild chaos broke out at the sight of the mounds building against the walls, staircase, and banisters. The voices of the students drew her back, reminded her of her sibling's unfiltered joy many years before. Her father’s judgemental eye was never far off though. 

After glancing around, she’d found herself muttering a spell, snow indenting to form a pictorial of a day long gone. Three people, snowballs, bright sun. She’d bent down on the floors of the Academy with slush gathering under her skirt and knees, watched as the image glittered and her mouth curled into a smile at the final result. 

A careless witch drug her feet through the image and the memory shattered inside Zelda like ice. She’d stood, brushing off the remnants from below, and wiped the rest of the picture away with the flick of her wrist. 

She was known for being as cold as everything that surrounded them, of what fell from the invisible clouds in the ceiling. Witches called her brutal and ruthless. Warlocks call her unreachable and completely worth a night in the sheets. None of them could see her clinging to sentiment. 

For only a few moments longer, she lingered. Turning on a heel, she left the students of the Academy to frolic. There would be other snows.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first snow, after the events of both a summer and fall that had left her feeling tired, is most welcome.

As if there weren’t enough to do to rebuild the coven and provide it with some sense of direction, Sabrina had tried to usurp the throne of Hell, leaving Zelda and the rest of three realms floundering in chaos. It had been rough to pick up the shattered pieces, had been difficult to begin again since life had been no more of a shaky colt on wobbling legs to begin with after Lucifer Morningstar was banished into Nick Scratch. 

Normally the arrival of winter in Greendale is no more an anomalous event in her life than any other regular day. But it has been a rough six months and Zelda watches as the flakes waft down from the heavens. They stick together in thick clumps, begin to coat the ground in white. 

A rustling signals presence behind her, but she doesn’t turn around as she feels the encroaching heat of the other body. 

In the distance, a fox stalks close to the tree line and Zelda watches it. Likens it to the creature beside her. She may have been a human once, may moonlight and appear as one now, but Lilith is no mere mortal and Zelda has done well to never underestimate her at any juncture of their communicating. Or combating. 

Still, her heart has discovered something unsettling in regards Lilith. It occasionally feels angry and hot, yet sometimes feels soft and blooming like the petals of a flower. It creates a magnet in her body with two ends of polarization. She never knows which end she will be stuck to. 

The moisture picks up speed from the sky, the clinking onto the branches loud in the woods seemingly devoid of sound. The fox takes cover in the underbrush and both women turn their gaze onto one another. 

“How’s Mary?” Lilith asks with an eyebrow raise and Zelda lets her eyes roll. 

“What an opener,” Zelda shakes her head.

“Can’t I be curious?” Lilith says quietly and her blue eyes from underneath her black hooded jacket stand out against the growing paleness. 

Things go quiet between them, the only noise around being the snow falling. “I suppose you can,” Zelda answers softly and then stares into the distance where the fox disappeared. 

“You know I’d be with you if I could,” Lilith says beside her and Zelda feels faint. It’s frank in its admittance, drained of any cloaked lie or half-truth. 

“We’re not here to talk about that,” Zelda dismisses with every possible ache hitting her in the chest. 

“Aren’t we, though?” Mary turns and shrugs her shoulders in question too. “I now roam the earthly realm trying to avoid the woman whose face I still steal. Only instead of walking in her shoes, I’m stuck clinging to the shadows.”

Zelda doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice, doesn’t remit herself from feeling guilty even if she herself is not the culprit of it. But her bloodline is, and no matter what she can try, amends will never be made. 

“Sabrina is still a foolish, impetuous child,” Zelda tries. “I’d see to it that she was adequately punished if I knew what might actually bother her for longer than five seconds. I thought Nicholas Scratch being used as a prison for Lucifer would be enough.”

Lilith scoffs beside her, lets out a derisive snort. “Love knows no bounds, I suppose.” She looks a little hard and a little long at Zelda during this but then turns away again and sighs. “I wouldn’t know though.”

Zelda wants to tell her not to be droll, that’s she been around long enough to have experienced the gamut of emotion, but she finds the words falling short of exiting her mouth. She’s had almost the same conversation with Sabrina herself, so she leaves it alone. 

Part of her wants to tell Lilith that Hell will be hers again, or if not, that she will make her own path in the world. She can’t imagine how it feels though, to be lost and wandering again in perhaps a more painful manner than the first time. There’s no balm for this. Nothing that Zelda can do. 

“I refuse to worship my niece,” Zelda says with a shake of her head. The cold begins to permeate and she shivers a little. 

“That makes two of us,” Lilith replies and shocks Zelda completely. “I may not be queen of Hell anymore, but I’m not following anyone again. Maybe I wasn’t worth following either. Maybe I’m better off alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Zelda says quickly, but then averts her eyes from Lilith’s question gaze. “As High Priestess, you’ll always be welcome in our coven.”

“And where would you have me stay? In your Academy with the students? In your own home, the mortuary? I think not. It’s better that I wander. I’m accustomed to it,” Lilith laughs out in a huff. 

They grow quiet again and the ground is good and coated now. Zelda looks up at the tree line, the gray sky behind it, blinks bits of snow from her evergreen eyes. She feels a chill and instead of letting it chatter her bones, she turns to Lilith and sees Mary, yes, but also the demoness and former queen who has a lot more heart than anyone gives her credit for. 

Emboldened, she kisses her cheek, feels the coolness of it against her lips and it’s hard not to forget she isn’t a human or a witch. Lilith tenses and Zelda knows her face holds a startled look, but it’s gone by the time she leans away. She runs her nose where her lips have been, whispers, “You’re always welcome in the mortuary too.”

 _And in my bed_ , she wants to say. Doesn’t. Lilith reads between the lines anyway. She turns into Zelda then, past the surprised reaction from moments ago. 

“I think we both know that wouldn’t be good for either of us,” Lilith offers a small smile only she says it into the air Zelda’s sucking in from her open mouth. The expelled breath becomes hers, taken into her body. 

Their noses are touching and Zelda can barely stand being in limbo. “Maybe I don’t want what’s good.” It comes out grainy and worn, but she absolutely means it. Her entire life feels like a held breath and she’s just so tired. 

“Mary,” Lilith shrugs.

“I’m simply watching out for her since you brought her back. You didn’t exactly make a lot of friends during your stint as her,” Zelda replies and feels emboldened to touch a hand to a leather-covered hip. 

A noise in the distance snaps Lilith’s head toward it and they both watch as a hare exits into the clearing. Lilith smiles again, a little sad, and points. She lets the hand resting on her stay. 

“Full moon was a couple of nights ago. Looks like the change is bringing out everyone,” she nods.

“It’s an old hoodoo wives tale. Shapeshifting witches that mortals then took to be pared down to nothing but foot and claw. It was made up to explain the bad and hope for good,” Zelda scoffs lightly. 

She stops herself when she sees the look on Lilith’s face. It’s far off and untouchable. Someplace Zelda can never go. Ice blue eyes come back to look at her and they’re enough to stop everything. 

“It couldn’t hurt to want a bit of luck, could it?” Lilith asks. When Zelda doesn’t answer, she leans in and places her lips on the witch’s cheek this time. “Goodbye, Zelda.”

Before she disappears completely, Zelda regains her voice long enough to form a question. “For how long?” 

Lilith stops but doesn’t turn around. “I suspect, for the both of us, it will never be forever.” 

The hare hides itself again. Lilith vanishes in thin air. Zelda is left alone with her thoughts amongst the white wonderland. 


End file.
